


Perchance to Dream

by Kalkasar (Mordhena)



Series: Dreams [1]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, inspired by episodes, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:07:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26876401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordhena/pseuds/Kalkasar
Summary: Malcolm is plagued by nightmares following the Shuttlepod One incident.
Relationships: Malcolm Reed/Charles "Trip" Tucker III
Series: Dreams [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960810
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Notes:   
> This doesn't have a happy ending all tied up in pink ribbons. My  
> bunnies somehow got their paws on an Angst-O-Ray Gun. Sorry.  
> Also, there is not much scope in how to handle the collective mind thing (Vox Sola) without going all Borg and that wouldn't work here at all.
> 
> The title is inspired by Hamlet's Soliloquoy:
> 
> _"To die--to sleep--No more; and by a sleep to say we end  
>  The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks  
> That flesh is heir to.  
> 'Tis a consummation  
> Devoutly to be wished.  
> To die--to sleep.  
> To sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub!"_  
> Hamlet, Act III. Sc.I/William Shakespeare

_"What're you gonna do, kill me?"  
  
"You're planning to kill yourself, what difference would it make?" He raised  
the phaser pistol and tried to steady his shaking hand.  
  
"Don't miss, cause if you do, the first thing I'm going to do if we get out  
of this is bust your ass back down to crewman second class."  
  
"Miss?" Malcolm shook his head and smiled. "I don't think so, Commander." He  
slowly squeezed the trigger, watching as the bolt of energy struck  
Tucker in the side. The force of the blast sending him reeling as blood  
seeped from the wound.  
  
He watched the commander's lifeless body fall from the ladder and land in a  
crumpled heap at his feet._  
  
  
"No!" Malcolm woke with a start and sat up in bed. Shaking his head slowly  
to clear away the remnants of the dream, Malcolm Reed swung his feet over  
the side of the bed. He sat there for some time, rubbing at his face as he  
tried to reassure himself it was just a dream; a recurring dream which he  
lived through at least once every week since the incident aboard Shuttlepod 1.  
  
With a heavy sigh, Malcolm got to his feet and made his way into the  
bathroom to wash his face. He knew it was useless to try going back to bed;  
he wouldn't sleep anymore that night.  
  
As he let cool water run over his hands, he noticed how they shook.   
The dreams always left him shaken. The thought that he could ever   
dream about harming a crewmate was abhorrent. He would never   
do deliberate harm to any of the Enterprise crew. He was sworn to protect   
them at any cost.  
  
True, he had pulled a phase pistol on Trip in the shuttlepod when the  
commander climbed into the airlock, but it was not with any thought of  
killing the man. Of all his crewmates, Trip was the one he was least likely  
to hurt.  
  
Malcolm frowned and then splashed cold water on his face. The mild  
shock of it was enough to wipe the gruesome imagery  
of the nightmare out of his mind. He sighed and went to the other room.  
Setting the small electric kettle to boil, he reached for a cup.  
A good strong cup of tea was just what he needed to restore his nerves.  
  
As he set a tea bag into the mug and reached for the sugar, his comms panel  
beeped.  
  
"Phlox to Lieutenant Reed," The doctor's voice came over the intercom.  
  
"Reed here," Malcolm replied. "How did you know I'd be awake?"  
  
"Oh just a feeling," the doctor said. "You've had a few disturbed nights  
lately, I was working on the assumption it had occurred again."  
  
Malcolm shook his head slightly and smiled. "Well, your hunch paid off. What  
can I do for you?"  
  
"Actually, it's more of a social call," Phlox said. "I wondered if you'd  
like to join me for an early breakfast?"  
  
Malcolm hesitated, half inclined to turn down the invitation.  
He still felt rattled from the dream and wasn't sure he wanted any  
company. With a small sigh he made up his mind that it might be better than  
sitting around brooding in his own quarters and thumbed the button. "I'll  
meet you in the mess hall in ten minutes," he said.  
  
"Excellent!"  
  
When the Reed arrived in the mess hall, Phlox was already seated  
at a table and waved him over.  
  
"Good morning, Lieutenant," The doctor beamed at him and waved to a chair.  
"Sit...sit." he glanced at Malcolm. "I took the liberty of fetching you some  
eggs, I thought you'd enjoy them."  
  
"Thank you." Malcolm slipped into a seat and picked up a knife and fork.  
"Eggs are just what I had in mind." He smiled at the doctor as he began to  
eat.  
  
Malcolm and Phlox had eaten breakfast together frequently since the  
beginning of Enterprise's mission. The armory officer found Phlox to be a  
stimulating conversationalist, and he enjoyed listening to the stories the  
doctor told of the various species he had studied in the course of his  
medical career.  
  
He took a mouthful of his breakfast and gave a small nod. "Delicious."  
  
"Good!" Phlox picked up a spoon and began to eat. "So, another disturbed  
night, hm?" he asked. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about what is  
troubling you?"  
  
Malcolm frowned slightly and met the doctor's eyes. "Is this another ploy to  
try and get me to talk?" His voice was edged with a note of severity as he  
gazed at the Denobulan.  
  
"Well, I am your doctor, you know," Phlox reminded him. "But if you prefer  
not to talk that is fine; I really do enjoy our breakfast conversations, so  
asking you to meet me was not entirely a ruse."  
  
With a small nod, Malcolm continued to eat. He knew that the doctor's  
motivation was concern, but he wasn't sure that he wanted  
to air all the twisted scenarios his mind could torment him with.  
He preferred not to think of them when he was awake, and certainly, when it  
came time for sleep he would much prefer that his mind would allow him to  
rest.  
  
"You know, talking about it may help." Phlox met his gaze as Malcolm glanced  
up sharply.  
  
"I am not sure I want to." Malcolm returned his gaze to his plate.  
  
"Ah, but perhaps you need to," Phlox said. "Sometimes talking these things  
out can help to...lay the ghost as it were?"  
  
Malcolm relented with a sigh. "I have dreams...nightmares."  
  
"Care to talk about them?"  
  
"You're obviously not going to leave me alone until I do." Malcolm gave a  
small grin to take the sting out of his words and then glanced around to  
make sure they were alone before he began. "I dream that I am with Commander  
Tucker. Sometimes we're back aboard shuttlepod 1 - when we thought  
 _Enterprise_ was destroyed; other times we're alone in the armory, or in  
engineering." He sighed. "But the end result is always the same. Commander  
Tucker is dead... at my hands."  
  
"I see. How do you kill him?" Phlox didn't seem shocked or upset by the  
description of the dream.  
  
"Usually, I shoot him... sometimes I use other methods. Always violent,"  
Malcolm said. He looked into the doctor's eyes. "I don't harbor any  
thoughts of harming Trip when I am awake. I...pulled a phase pistol on him  
that day on the shuttlepod, but it was set to stun. I never had any thought  
of killing him. I probably wouldn't have used the pistol at all anyway.I  
just wanted to stop him."  
  
"Of course," Phlox said. "Dreams rarely mean what they appear to mean on  
face value. The subconscious deals in symbolism. I don't think your dreams  
mean that you actually wish Commander Tucker harm."  
  
Malcolm closed his eyes and nodded. "I just wish I knew what they are about  
and how to stop them."  
  
"Perhaps they are a means of dealing with unresolved issues," Phlox  
suggested. "Anger...hostility. Traumatic experiences demand that we work  
through them, you know, or they will come back to haunt us in some way. Are  
you angry with the commander?"  
  
"No. Perhaps." Malcolm shook his head with a sigh. "I haven't really thought  
about it."  
  
"I have some data chips in sickbay that deal with symbolism in dreams.  
perhaps you'd like to take a look at them sometime. It might help."  
  
"Thank you." Malcolm's smile was genuine as he looked into Phlox's sharp,  
blue eyes once more. "I may do that."  
  
Their conversation turned to more mundane issues as the first of the day  
shift began to trail into the mess hall looking for breakfast.  
  
As Malcolm parted with Phlox and prepared to face his day in the Armory,  
he reviewed the dream that had wakened him earlier. His feelings in the  
dream were not anger exactly - more a sense of putting an end to something.  
  
Phlox had told him before they parted company that it was helpful to note  
the feelings and the items in the dream that seemed most important.  
  
To his mind, the phase pistol, the blood, and the feeling that something was  
finally resolved were important. Also, the shooting or killing itself in  
each dream seemed to stand out. There was something else. The  
overwhelming feeling of helplessness and loss when Trip Tucker lay dead at  
his feet. That was the feeling he woke to every time and it was the fear of  
experiencing that emotion again which prevented him getting back to sleep.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

"Dammit!" Malcolm Reed turned onto his back in bed and lay staring into the  
darkness of his quarters. He let out an exasperated sigh and  
sat up rubbing at his face. A glance at the small clock by his bed told him  
it was 0400. Again he had slept only a few hours before nightmares  
wakened him. This one was different though.  
  
 _He ran; crashing through the jungle as his breath rasped harshly in his  
throat. He longed to stop, to rest, but he knew if he did the one pursuing him  
would catch him.  
  
He looked over his shoulder, fear constricting his heart as he heard the  
heavy sounds of someone crashing through the undergrowth behind him.  
  
"Leave me alone! Go away!" His voice seemed odd to his own ears, garbled as   
though he spoke under water.  
  
"You tried to kill me!"  
  
Malcolm turned his eyes to the path ahead just in time to see the looming  
chasm. Too late, he tried to halt his headlong flight, but it was to no  
avail. He tumbled into empty space._  
  
Malcolm got out of bed. Reaching for his shirt, he pulled it on as  
he made his way into the bathroom. Exhaustion was taking a heavy toll. He became  
edgier by the day. He knew he had to do something about this situation  
before the lack of sleep drove him insane.  
  
He decided to go to the sickbay and look at Phlox's data chips  
since he was rostered off duty. It was high time he faced up to  
whatever was troubling him. Perhaps if he could find out what the dreams  
meant it might stop them plaguing him.  
  
He called into the sickbay after breakfast and found Phlox busy with his  
usual never-ending experiments.  
  
"Ahh! Lieutenant Reed," The doctor cried, greeting Malcolm as though they  
hadn't eaten breakfast together only the previous morning. "You've come to  
look at those data chips I take it?"  
  
"Yes, if you wouldn't mind, I thought today would be a good time to do it."  
  
"Certainly." Phlox took the chips out of a cabinet and handed them to Malcolm.   
"There is a private room you can use," he said, showing the way to a small consulting   
room at the back of the sickbay. "Take your time. I won't be needing the chips any time   
soon." The doctor's faintly triangular grin split his face as his blue eyes twinkled.  
  
Malcolm nodded his thanks and moved into the room.  
  
Inserting the first chip into a computer, Malcolm took a seat and began to  
read the screen. He found it was a dictionary which described the possible  
meanings of various items. Malcolm began to search for the items from the  
dream in which he shot Trip on board Shuttle pod 1.  
  
An hour later, the lieutenant shut down the dictionary frowning deeply.   
He set both data chips aside, and got to his feet. Making  
his way into the sickbay he found Doctor Phlox.  
  
"How did you go?"  
  
"I don't think it was much help," Malcolm murmured. "I think I know what the  
dreams mean, but - it doesn't really resolve anything."  
  
"I see," Phlox said. "Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
Malcolm nodded. "I think that might help."  
  
"All right," Phlox set down the data pad he was holding led the way to his office.   
He seated himself and waited for Malcolm to speak.  
  
"It's not really told me anything I didn't already know," Malcolm said,  
indicating the computer console as he spoke. "The dreams I have about  
killing Commander Tucker don't mean that I want to kill him in reality. They  
are merely warning me that I need to restrain my temper around him." He gave  
a wry smile. "I already know that."  
  
Phlox nodded, "Indeed, the relationship between you two has often  
been...volatile."  
  
"Yes." Malcolm nodded his agreement. "The symbolism is fairly  
indicative...guns speak of a need to protect myself...shooting speaks of needing  
to keep my temper in check."  
  
"Is there anything else?"  
  
"Well, there's another dream. Completely different," Malcolm said. "I had  
it for the first time this morning."  
  
"Go on."  
  
"This time, I didn't kill Trip. I was - running from him." Malcolm  
moved to a chair and sat down. "He chased me through a jungle. He kept  
yelling that I tried to kill him. At the end - I fell into some kind of  
empty space... I..." Malcolm stopped.  
  
"Please keep going," Phlox urged.  
  
"It was like - falling into - loss." Malcolm felt his heart begin to pound  
as he recalled the anguish that he'd felt in those terrifying moments of free   
fall before he woke.  
  
It was the same feeling he had when he killed Trip in the other dreams. He  
looked up and met the doctor's eyes. "All of the dreams end with that same  
feeling," he admitted. "Incredible, sickening loss."  
  



	3. Chapter 3

It was back, the strangling, stifling loss. The grief and the certainty of  
knowing something precious was gone.  
  
Lost.  
  
Malcolm closed his eyes, forcing his mind to focus on the task at hand. The  
force field was almost ready. He just had to keep his mind on the  
job. This nightmare would soon be over, but there was no time to waste.  
  
And this was no nightmare. This was real. He'd seen it happen before his  
terrified eyes.  
  
 _Watched as Captain Archer was seized and thrown off his  
feet. Seen him dragged across the cargo bay. Watched as Trip dived after the  
captain, desperately grabbing the older man's hands.  
  
Watched - heart pounding and breath ragged as the awful, truth  
dawned - as the meaning of the nightmares became crystal clear.  
  
"Get outta here!"  
  
Malcolm couldn't move. He was frozen to the spot, staring at the man who had  
filled his every sleeping moment for so many weeks. He stared, horrified, as  
the slimy tendrils wrapped around Tucker's chest and arms.  
  
"Go!"  
_  
Malcolm shook his head, muttering as he pushed the images from his  
mind. He could not afford for anything to cloud his thinking now. He had no  
time to examine his feelings. He made an adjustment to the settings and  
activated the EM barrier. Glancing at the crewman who assisted him, he  
nodded.  
  
The crewman fired a phase pistol at the barrier, which held for a moment  
before it flickered and allowed the energy beam to penetrate. Malcolm shook  
his head and sighed in frustration as he deactivated the field.  
  
"The particle density's still fluctuating - I think the problem's in the  
lower left quadrant."  
  
"I've got it, Sir." The crewman made a small adjustment to one of the  
emitters.  
  
"Try again," Malcolm said as he reactivated the field.  
  
This time the barrier flickered, but it held. "Better." Malcolm glanced at  
the crewman and was about to start another test when the comm panel chirped  
and T'Pol called him.  
  
Malcolm felt his heart sink as the Vulcan told him that there was not much  
more time to complete his simulations. He stood for a moment, staring at the  
emitters.  
  
"Understood." He looked at the crewman. "We've got to get moving," he said,  
once more pushing his feelings aside.  
  



	4. Chapter 4

_'I'm dying.'_ The thought rippled through the collective mind and was gone.  
  
"We're not gonna die here." Trip was not sure who had thought it. He had  
been unable to identify individual voices for some time. They were melding  
into one mind. He could feel it. "We're not dyin'," he repeated, his voice no  
longer carrying the edge of defiance it held mere hours before.  
  
 _'Not dying,'_ they thought. _'Not dying.'_ They took strength from it.  
  
 _'Not exactly,'_ Trip closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift. He was  
tired of fighting. Weary of trying to shield his mind - his soul - from us.  
  
Us.  
  
It was no longer 'them;' nor 'I' anymore. Them and I didn't exist _. 'Us. The  
One.'_ There was a strange comfort in it. Trip let his body go limp  
in the supporting web. "Cap'n."  
  
There was no reply. It didn't matter. _'We are well. Rest.'_  
  
 _Someone came. One of the single ones - Alone - it was wrong. We reached for  
him, we wanted to embrace him. we wanted to take away the solitude. but we  
could not touch him. He stopped us when we tried. He did not want to be one.  
  
Others came. We watched, we saw them, but we could not touch. They were  
separate, alien to us. We did not comprehend. We gathered ourselves closer.  
We were afraid.  
  
'Home!' _The thought crashed through the consciousness causing the whole to  
stir.  
  
 _'They sang to us.'  
  
We sang - The ancient song of origins. They heard and they understood.  
  
'They will take us home!'  
  
"We release you."_  
  
Trip heard the thought, but for a moment he didn't understand. The  
concept of separation was foreign. He felt the slow disconnection as a loss.   
  
_'Farewell.'_

* * *

  
  
"Commander Tucker's heart rate is increasing," Phlox said.  
  
Malcolm glanced at him, keeping expression carefully neutral. "Is that  
good or bad?"  
  
"It's good!" Phlox met his eyes and nodded as a moment of understanding  
passed between them. "Crewman Kelly's vital signs are stabilizing as well."  
  
Malcolm looked away, his eyes seeking Trip as the tendrils and  
webbing slowly receded. He watched as the life form withdrew. Trip was  
lowered gently to the deck and T'Pol ordered him to lower the forcefield.  
  
As the others moved forward, Malcolm stayed where he was. He saw Trip stir,  
heard him groan, as the commander seemed to come out of a deep sleep. With a  
sigh of relief, Malcolm turned to look at the crewman.  
  
"Let's get these emitters back to the armory," he said as he heard Phlox  
call for a medical team.  
  
He took one last look at Trip. Hoshi was with him, bent over him, talking  
softly. He met hazy blue eyes for a moment as Trip glanced in his direction.  
Malcolm smiled slightly and turned to remove the EM emitters from the wall.  
  
The sense of loss subsided. He could think again. The lieutenant sighed as  
he walked out of the cargo bay with the emitters in his hands. Trip was  
safe. He had saved the life of the man he had repeatedly dreamed of killing.

  
Perhaps now he could get some sleep. Maybe, just maybe the ghosts Phlox had  
mentioned were finally laid to rest. He now understood the meaning of the  
nightmares. He knew why he had them, and what the sense of loss meant.  
  
He knew and understood that his heart - subconscious - whatever it was  
called, was trying to warn him that he stood to lose something precious.   
The knowledge was cold comfort to him. It was impossible  
to lose something one didn't even possess. He smiled wryly at the thought.  
He would never have Charles Tucker. It was hopeless. But if he could just  
get a good night's sleep, he would settle for that.


End file.
